19 February 2005


Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls around the world, it is with great pleasure that I can announce - It's snowing. Roll out Prokofiev's Troika, strap on the sleighbells and get ready to ride.
Lets not get over exited just yet - it's not quite a winter wonderland, but I feel it in me bones - we're in for a whiteout. The clouds look like they're about to drop the mother load - it's cold and dry....so what I'd like you all to do, wherever you are, is a little snow dance -It doesn't have to be anything too extravagant, just a shimmy and a shake - just enough to show that we mean business. Those of you living in tropical climates are asked to participate as well, if you'd be so kind. We'd do the same for you, if you wanted a monsoon or something. Lets make the greatest white powder known to man pour forth - blizzards, power cuts, a new Ice age to last until the first week of May, where it can be swapped for a Bluebell wood and a fertility dance.
I've been a bit miserable of late - and a bit naughty, so apologies for the irregularity of my postings. Still, I think I might have turned a corner of debauchery - at least for a while, so now I can return to productivity. I almost have a valid excuse anyway...apart from boredom, there was filming for University Challenge - not the actual quiz yet, but a profile film of our team. Why is it, directors and photographers always assume that our natural habitat is in a bar getting innebriated? What about a library...it's alway bar...drink this drink that. Of course we do, then end up drunk and wanting to get drunker. Mobile phone calls ensue to people who only have initials and will meet us in five minutes outside. The second greatest white powder known to man.
I have paranoid fantasies of being arrested - nipping off to the pub toilets for a line, coming back into the bar, only to discover it's a police station. As I'm dragged to the cells by the gentleman with the burberry baseball cap, who has now removed his disguise, and is quite clearly Sir Ian Blair, flanked by Michael Howard and a tv news crew, I desperately protest that I am not middle class, but have very humble origins. Ah, the fear.
Then of course it was the NME party - to be sober at an event like this is just not on.
Annyway, it's sunday tomorrow - church, cleansing of mind body and soul...If I manage to wake up in time, which I never have done before. I can trhow myself at the priest's feet and confess my sins in front of the congregation. How do you think that will sit with the school selectors?
Look, it's stopped snowing - who's not dancing ?...come on, get with it.


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